


We'll Meet Again

by FritzTheGlitch



Category: Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Joseph Seed sucks ass, family reunion :), tw for abuse ngl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-12-26 18:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18287813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FritzTheGlitch/pseuds/FritzTheGlitch
Summary: Ubisoft made me sad by giving me no deputy redemption arch, so i guess ill do it myself





	1. Hurk - Salt

**Author's Note:**

> everytime i write 'oh god' in this chapter, take a shot

The Judge felt it after he killed his first Highwayman. The nagging feeling of nostalgia and remembrance that weighs down on your stomach and climbs up your throat. A feeling that feels like the discomfort of crying, even though nothings happened to make you cry.

It’s just a reminder that you’re in pain.

And he felt it because it felt no different then to killing (a peggie) _someone_ from before the collapse.

He hasn’t felt like this since he first climbed out of (dutches) _the_ bunker _,_ trailing behind his Father like a lost dog, looking at all the places that he once knew, that he once tried and failed to protect.

He tried to hide these feelings, but of course, The Father knows all.

Once New Eden was born of the worlds ashes, built up from the ground with their own hands, The Father named him their protector. Calloused hands that he knew too well pulled him close, whispered to him that he still had purpose, that he was reborn and that the lord will allow him to judge, as he now has faith he will make the right decisions. The Judge felt The Father push the mask into his hands and found himself forgetting about everything else as the walls closed around him, just wanting to _obey_.

```

The Captain was (nice enough) _deemed worthy by The Father_ , and said to be New Edens Shepherd. They (reminded him of himself) _were_ strong, and could handle themselves well. Even so, The Father had said that he would go with them, and protect them on their journey of ridding (his home) Hope County, of the locusts in their garden.

They had fought diligently that day, and The Captain decided they needed a break, so, as they walked together through the valley, The Captain filled the silence, telling them of the abandoned home their friends rest in, Roughnecks Crag, as they had called it.

When The Judge grunted in interest, they went on, telling him about the young woman who brought their team to the county (he tried his hardest not to let the brief inhale of shock at her name be known), the old woman that helped them with their aim, an ex-highwayman, who left to be with her (kinda)husband, a older man who’s… uhh, a bit _silly_ sometimes, and a preacher who has lost his faith (he almost froze, almost let out a yell as his eyes widened behind the mask, _he thought they were dead_ ).

The Judge couldn’t help the anxiety that bubbled inside him, the adrenalin making his hands move with nervous energy. They gripped at the hood covering his head, adjusted his mask, played with his bow, and writhed within each other constantly, with no purpose. When The Captain looked at him, they saw an isolated man, nervous to meet a group of people that may reject him, but it went _so much deeper than that._

The Judge stayed outside for a while, grateful for The Captain becoming distracted by their (his) friends and forgetting to introduce him. When the Montana air froze up that night, he stayed upstairs, listening to the voices, familiar and not, below, one deep southern drawl piquing his interest in particular, as the friendly and even voice asked The Captain about their travels.

Jerome, sounding edged with surprise at the news that The Captain had not been alone, offered his usual fatherly advice in aiding The Captain's effort to get to know The Judge and make him comfortable around them.

“New Edeners have always kept to themselves, Captain, we survivors haven't been the… most welcoming, and habits are hard to break, just give them some time, we’ll get to know this ‘Judge’ of yours soon enough.”

(I’m not- but we’re-)  
(You haven't changed at all)  
( _You already know me_ )

He can’t keep the sob from tearing out of his throat, all of the anxiety and emotion of the day flowing past the dam that he’d been building up inside of himself for 17 years. Being confronted by his past where he hurt people, disappointed everyone. He could feel the rejection to come, the abuse that he will, _already has,_ suffered.

 

He keeps this routine up for a few days, avoiding everyone as the captain comes and goes, sometimes taking him with them. It’s until the mysterious woman, only going by Nana, catches him and the Captain out front one day that he starts to break, finding something of a part-friend-part-therapist in her, with her blunt yet kind nature reminding him of another sniper he used to know (oh god).

Nana insisted that they go inside the building when they talk, as to not roast in the heat, though it took him a while, many days spent with him standing just outside the doorway as they ‘talked’, keeping his head down and ignoring everyone that walked past (especially the grey tank top and the black sweater that made his throat seize, oh god), but with enough coxing on nana’s part, one day, he walks through the door, stiff, eyes darting around behind the mask.

It takes a while but he relaxes, letting down his guard and conversing freely with Nana. it’s much cooler inside, and the music that lazily wafts through the place is calming, creating a kind of ambience that he missed. It’s so soothing to him, that he doesn't realise that Hurk had walked into the room, leaning on a wall and talking to Gina. When the Judge lets out a loud almost-laugh slip past his lips, stifling it with a grunt and a cough, Hurks head snaps to look at him, eyes squinted in suspicion.

The Judge's head moved to meet Hurk’s, and he prayed and pleaded to God in those moments as he froze, not having it in him look away from those blue eyes (nothing like the Seed’s), looking him up and down and growing larger every second with recognition.

 

_(Please, for the love of God Hurk, for once in your life can you please be as dumb as your daddy always said you were)_

 

“Oh, oh my god, Dep?”

 

His heart pains at the grin, that stretches across his face, the use of the nickname, his friend immediately recognizing him, of fucking course Hurk would recognize him.

(Dep) The Judge can only stand there as Hurk starts towards him, frozen, shock on his face covered by his mask, he knows Hurk would laugh at him if he could see it-

The larger man practically barrels into him with the hug, and, though winded, the Judge comes close to melting into the familiar intimacy ( _any_ intimacy), his arms wrapping around the other automatically (still human). Hurk laughs, warm, and squeezing the air out of him (fair enough), and for a second, Judge thinks, in his excitement, that he’s gonna pick him up, and spin him around. He tried to once, when he'd been missing for almost two weeks. He’d limped to the 8-bit Pizza Diner with a sprained ankle, bruised face and covered in blood, dry and otherwise, that was mostly not his own. Hurk couldn’t get a good grip on the man, considering they were practically the same size, and threw him over a table, adding bruised coccyx to the list of injuries. God did Grace rip him a new one.

Judge was brought back to reality by Hurk moving back from him slightly, making him realise that he had been talking the whole time, Nana leaving the room to give them 'privacy,' the wink practically audible in her voice. He briefly catches the word ‘daddy’ before Hurk pulls back completely to point at the intimidating woman that had been watching them with poorly masked interest.

“That’s Gina, man She’s my lady girl! Haha- oh! So me and Sharky, we started up a party liquor business also- oh dude, Sharky's missed the fuck outa you, Dep, I mean, hell, I've missed you! You've been gone for so long, we all thought you might be dead, I shoulda known better, cos you don't die, man.” Hurks arm slides up to hang around his shoulders, leaning his weight onto the younger man, content.

“Haha, y’know, now the dream teams back together, you, me, Cap, we're gonna fuck up these dumbass Highwaymen, just like how we used to with the Peggies! Aww man, this is so sweet!”

Hurks still got that big dumb smile on his face when everything starts to click, when he really feels the fur and leather under his arm, when he really sees the void in The Judges mask.

The Judge realises as well, and grows stiff as he remembers who he is and who he’s talking to.

 

_The Father's Shadow._

 

“Uhh, you’re lookin’... different, Dep, haha…” Hurks arm slips away from The Judge's shoulders. “What the hell's the peggie get up for, dude?”

Hurks eyes narrow in confusion as he steps in front of The Judge, looking him up and down, trying to come to some semblance of understanding, like he’s seeing two things that just don't go together.

(Fair enough.)

The Judge doesn't say anything, doesn't make a sound. He doesn't know what to say, and he doesn’t even know if his voice would work at this point, from either the underuse or the seizing feeling, like he’s being choked from the inside.

Hurk looks more and more horrified as the silence continues, oh god, Hurk is scared of him.

He feels the tears build up in the corners of his eyes as he releases a shaky breath, hands trembling as they wrap around his own middle.

Of course his friend would be scared of him, scared of what he's become, he's betrayed them because he wasn't _strong_ enough, _not good enough_ -

Hurk placing his hand on his arm ankers him to the ground, keeping him from bolting as the concern becomes evident on his face.

“Hey, no, man, a-are you ok? ya look, y’know, haha… like one of those New Eden guys… what- uhh what’s up man? What's that all about? You like, infiltrating their ranks or something?” It shouldn’t have shocked him that Hurk would think something like that, but he still needs to double take. “Haha! Taking them down from the inside! That’s cool, but the masks pretty creepy bro, not gonna lie.”

The Judge tries to shake his head, tries to shake the tears away, but Hurk interrupts him.

“Nahnah man, I get it, Joseph fucked everything up for us, so you’re using the long hall to get back at him, I get it, but you got us again now, we can help you, man! Y’know I think cap actually found your uniform, I can go get it for ya, grab Sharky, and we can pop off that psycho right now-”

 

 _The Judge_ doesn’t like that.

 

Part of him feels the Wrath bubbling in his blood with how Hurks talking about The Father, His Father.

But mostly, he’s hurting.

Hearing Hurk in such heavy denial of what he’s become, the talk of his uniform, his deputy uniform.

 

_(The Deputy)_

 

He wants to say something, anything, but The Father taught him _to shut his mouth._

Judge fumbles.

He has to say something.

So he trys-

His voice sounds horrendous, and caked with misuse. A painful croaking and a breathy wheeze is all he gets out before starts coughing, doubling over, hand automatically going over his face where his mouth would be.

Hurks on him in an instant, one hand holding his arm to stabilize him, the other rubbing his back.

“Fuck, man! Are you ok?!”

Hurk stops rubbing his back to lift a hand to his mask, wanting his friend _(The Hero of Hope County)_ to have better access to the air he so desperately needed.

The Judge pushed Hurks hand away in desperation, he _couldn't_.

It's quite, and shaky, and doesn't sound how he remembers, and god, it hurts, but it comes out anyway, muffled by the mask.

 

_“I don’t want to sin anymore.”_

 

The words don't feel like they come from him, they’re gritted out and quite,

 

_(Someone else's thoughts that he’s learned to mimic.)_

 

“Oh… oh shit, Dep...”

Hurks face falls, and _(Dep)_ Judge feels like shit for it.

“What- what did he do to you?” Hurk lifts his hand to grip his other shoulder, trying to (trap) keep him from freaking out and failing.

It hurts, but he whispers with infliction anyway, _“He saved me-”_

“No man, he didn’t! That's not you!”

Judge jumps at the yelling and the hands and-

 

_(Joseph Seed holding him down in the bunker during sermons that lasted years and years)_

_  
_

Hurk doesn't know what to do as Judge rips himself from his hands and stumbles backwards

“Wait, Dep-” He reaches out to his friend, stumbling on his feet.

The judge turns around, and runs out of the house and off into the woods.

 

And Hurk, all grey hair and sad eyes, stares at patch of trees that his friend disappeared into. His friend that’s been missing for 17 years after leaving with _Joseph Seed_ , who _survived_ , and now _looks like one of his people._

“Dammit Hurk,” he runs a hand across his face, then through his hair, Gina walking up behind him

 

“Ya fucked up.”


	2. Jerome - God's Favorite Customer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, this chapter and i were fighting each other the whole way, i had A LOT of trouble with it and not a lot of free time either, i hope it's ok, since it is kinda short :')

Walking through the ruins of Hope, seeing all the places The Judge could barely recognize anymore? It was hard. What had once been thriving fields, paved roads and homes belonging to the warm residence of the county was replaced by unnaturally coloured plants, upturned cars and dust. 

 

It just felt wrong, (wrong to the point that it hurt) and The Judge couldn’t possibly fix it. 

 

He hadn’t seen the state of the County when he and The Father first crawled their way out of the bunker. Their grimy, frail forms immediately began the silent trek to the church, joining the others who had made their way there.

 

Those who recognised his tired, empty face next to the The Father’s would glare, whisper insults and curses under their breath, or keep their distance, and stare on with alarm, suspicious of the man. Children were clutched closer to parents sides as he passed, warnings hissed into their ears of the things that he could do if they got to close, what they had witnessed, the stories they'd been told. 

  
  


(The fear of a muzzled dog.)

  
  


```

 

The Judge easily hears the soft slosh of waterlogged boots making their way up behind him, even with the constant wet patting of the rain on his leather coat, the thickness of the garment shielding him from the storm. 

 

He doesn't acknowledge it. (He can’t get caught in the past. The Father gave him work to do.)

 

It became hard not to, however, when the rain stops landing on him, focusing its assault instead, on something above him, casting a shadow that left The Judges world darker with it. 

 

The Judge looks up to see the inside of a beaten up umbrella, hovering over him just enough so that rain wouldn’t hit his head, but also sparing room for the man now standing next to him.

 

“Deputy, it’s to my understanding that you were stuck in a bunker with Joseph Seed after The Collapse.”

 

The Judge tried to ignore his racing heartbeat at hearing the older mans voice. He grunts, answering the question with such heavy implications. 

 

The question that has so much potential for further questioning.

 

(Jerome knows him better than that though.)

 

“I also heard about what happened between you and Hurk.”

 

The Judge stiffens, nervous sweat breaking out under the wooden mask. It feels like when his parents would calmly bring up something bad he did at school after he got home, something he’d put to the back of his mind because he’d gotten away with it,

 

but here he is, being scolded anyway.

 

His hands began to writhe together as he turns his head to meet the pastors, finally getting a good look at him for the first time in years. 

 

The smooth, chubbiness of his face was gone, taken by stress and age, leaving him with a wrinkled forehead and sagging cheeks. His hair was now disorderly, and messy in the way it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be black or grey, making his curls stand out so much more. 

 

His glasses were missing from their reserved spot, making Jerome look like a completely different person. If it weren't for the familiar (if now dirty) clerical collar (Jerome had chuckled at Rook in that deep, throaty, way of his when he awkwardly asked what those, ‘y’know, white preacher collar-y things’ were actually called) and determined eyes, Judge isn’t sure if he’d recognise him.

 

But above all, he looked… sad.

 

And happy, and worried, and relieved, and old, and new, all at the same time. 

 

And, just like with Hurk, Judge is at a loss, unable to even think what he would like to try to say, words rushing his mind and emotions clawing up his throat.

 

Judge rushes to stand, 

 

Jerome adjusts the umbrella to fit them both under it,

 

and there’s a terrifying moment of silence that drags on between them, Judge can see the disappointment begin to form in Jerome’s eyes, his smile wavering.

 

The older man lets out something a little more refined than a snort.

 

“You never were very good with words, were you?”

 

Judge looks to the ground, unable to keep Jerome's expectant gaze, 

 

he was right.

 

(Well, the tough guy act failed.)

 

Jerome sighs fully, and judge would never admit how hard he felt his gut sink at the apparent sign of failure, closing his eyes behind the mask. Crying belonged to a different him, but the sheer shame wringing at his throat, like he was a dirty dishcloth, forcing the water to his eyes-

 

The umbrella hit the back of his head as Jerome adjusted it into the crook of his arm. He could now use both of his hands, one finding itself on Judge's forearm, the other on his still intertwined (white knuckled) hands

 

Judge flinches at the sudden contact, not used to being touched after so long, but he didn’t feel trapped like with Hurk, Jerome left him an opening if he needed it.

 

He relaxes slowly (leans into the touch), and Jerome waits for his friend to be completely comfortable under his hands, he doesn't say anything, he just gently prys Judge’s fingers away from each other (bad habit).

 

Jerome never liked when The Deputy was nervous, (Dep-) Judge realises how familiar this situation is. (And how it isn’t familiar at all)

 

“I know what you’re thinking, Deputy, and I will tell you now that I think no less of you than of the last time I saw you, I certainly don't resent you.”

 

(Deputy. A title.)

 

He smiles sadly at the blank mask, Judge gulps. 

 

“The path that was chosen for you is… terrible, and I’m sorry, but…”  

 

“It’s just good to see you again after all these years, if you need help, we will help you.”

 

Jerome squeezes Judge's shoulder. He can’t help the small shudder at the praise.

 

(Judge. A title.)

 

“Come inside with us Rook, out of the cold.”

 

(Rook. A name. An old, old name.)

 

(Dep? Deputy?) Judge follows the slight push that Jerome gives, finding himself staring at the open door of the crag,

 

and he’s fine with it. He wants it. And he isn’t feeling any shame for wanting like The Father said he should, it’s so good and so, so confusing.

 

(Figures.)

 

He shakes his head of the thought and looks back at Jerome, his face still missing something important. He says what he’s thinking before he even realises it. It still hurts, doesn't feel natural at all, too quiet, and he has to hold back a coughing fit, but he says it anyway.

 

“Where are your glasses?”

 

Jerome head snaps to his, eyes wide and blinking like he can’t believe he actually just heard that, but then relaxes, and chuckles at his old friend.

 

“I’ve been finding it hard to find a proper optometrist out here, well, at least one that doesn't want to kill me.”


End file.
